Women have every right to be nervous about the Jian Ghomeshi trial. So do men.

Chances are there are going to be a lot of disappointed, frustrated people out there once the verdict comes down — no matter what it says. Certainly, women seem more than entitled to the belief that the system is always letting them down in these matters.

The former celebrity CBC radio host has been centre stage in a melodrama of sex, celebrity and victims’ rights for almost two years. When three women pressed sexual assault charges against Ghomeshi in 2014 over events that took place a decade earlier, he became an instant villain and the complainants automatic heroines in the struggle to end violence against women.

The Internet throbbed with loathing for Ghomeshi, and there was an outpouring of support for his alleged victims. Ghomeshi’s claim that whatever happened with the women was consensual fell on deaf ears; he was fired from the CBC and consigned to public disgrace. The presumption of innocence was pretty much shredded in story after story based on interviews with some of the complainants before the trial.

By the end of Ghomeshi’s trial, though, there was talk that the proceeding had turned into a fiasco for the Crown after the credibility of all three witnesses was seriously undermined by Ghomeshi’s lawyer, Marie Henein.

There was communication and even sex with Ghomeshi after the alleged sexual assaults, and a trail of cringe-worthy emails to prove it. There was a post-assault bikini picture sent to Ghomeshi. There was voluminous communication between two of the complainants that legitimately raises the question of possible collusion.

It’s clear that the whole story of the complainants’ relationship with Ghomeshi was not shared with police during the investigation that eventually led to charges against the former host of “Q”. It remains an open question whether there would have been charges in this case at all had investigators known the full story.

And that raises another big issue linked to society’s continuing battle to give justice to rape and sexual assault victims. Police forces once investigated these cases without much recognition of the victims’ precarious position — mentally distressed, fearful of the consequences, mindful how the process in place could easily re-victimize them. The power seemed always to lie with their male abusers — the power to inflict further misery by bringing the women into disrepute. They had to prove they were not harlots, that they hadn’t ‘invited’ the assault by, for example, wearing a short skirt.

Now, the system is far more aware of the fact that sexual assaults require different treatment. Sexual assault units in modern police forces have a far better understanding of the sensitivity of these files. Their starting position is no longer professional skepticism. The Ghomeshi trial proves how easy it still is to botch such investigations.

Justice Horkins would be roundly applauded if he found Ghomeshi guilty of sexual assault and gave him a significant amount of jail time. But that’s not likely to happen.

Compare it, for example, to what can happen with such allegations outside the courtroom — with the case of Liberal MPs Scott Andrews and Massimo Pacetti, who were first suspended and then permanently booted out of caucus after they were anonymously accused of sexually assaulting female NDP MPs.

After personally hearing from one of the women, Trudeau eventually hired Toronto lawyer Cynthia Petersen, who specialized in investigating sexual harassment complaints in the private sector, to look into the complaints against Pacetti and Andrews. Their suspension became permanent in March 2015 based on her report — a report which has never been made public.

To a lot of women, it seemed like they had finally found a man who believed them. In this instance it didn’t take an embarrassing trip to the police station, or invasive and degrading test, to make the case. But to Trudeau’s critics, it looked a lot like a verdict without a charge or trial, one that irrevocably changed the lives of two men who maintained that they had done nothing wrong. It didn’t look like due process. It looked like no process.

By Trudeau’s standard, Justice William Horkins faces an impossible task. On the one hand, Ghomeshi’s lawyer has never disputed the core of the allegations against her client — that he punched, slapped and choked the complainants during several different encounters.

From the complainants’ perspective, assault is assault, whether Ghomeshi was choking them with one hand or two. Whether the women remembered every detail the way it happened or not, assault is still assault — regardless of what the alleged victims did afterwards. By that measure, Justice Horkins would be roundly applauded if he found Ghomeshi guilty of sexual assault and gave him a significant amount of jail time.

But that’s not likely to happen. Unlike Trudeau, Justice Horkins is not able to render a political decision — one that reflects the need to stop violence against women by believing their allegations despite contradictions, strategic omissions, and what the defense has called ‘lies’ from the key witnesses.

The judge must operate within the law — and that means applying the usual standards to assess the quality of the evidence against Ghomeshi and the credibility of his accusers. If he strays from that role, there’s a very good chance his verdict could be overturned on appeal.

And that leaves the judge in front of two narratives. The first is that the disgraced radio personality is a vicious sexual predator who used his celebrity to assault women drawn to his fame — that the justice system must punish him to deter such assaults and to encourage women to report them when they do happen.

The counter-narrative portrays the complainants as star-struck stalkers who initially pursued a relationship with Ghomeshi on his terms, and later turned against him when he lost interest in them. Since Ghomeshi never took the stand, the counter-narrative is implied, not explicit.

The blunt reality check in this case is standard fare in our adversarial criminal justice system. The Crown brought charges against Ghomeshi that could cost him his liberty; his career and reputation are lost already. Henein has applied the law to the benefit of her client — and the detriment of Ghomeshi’s accusers.

It is doubtful that women will ever find justice in the courts as long as the fundamental defence against charges of rape or sexual assault comes down to vilifying the accusers.

And it’s equally impossible for a Ghomeshi to get justice if the Trudeau rules apply.

Justice Horkins is on the horns of a dilemma. So is the justice system.

Michael Harris is a writer, journalist, and documentary filmmaker. He was awarded a Doctor of Laws for his “unceasing pursuit of justice for the less fortunate among us.” His nine books include Justice Denied, Unholy Orders, Rare ambition, Lament for an Ocean, and Con Game. His work has sparked four commissions of inquiry, and three of his books have been made into movies. His new book on the Harper majority government, Party of One, is a number one best-seller and has been shortlisted for the Governor-General’s Literary Award for English-language non-fiction.

The views, opinions and positions expressed by all iPolitics columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of iPolitics.